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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940989">another challenge</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/insearchofamonstergirlfriend/pseuds/insearchofamonstergirlfriend'>insearchofamonstergirlfriend</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tales from the lower alleys [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Chronicles - murkybluematter, Tortall - Tamora Pierce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, M/M, Multi, The Lower Alleys, Unrequited Love, marek please get some sleep, no beta we die like men, we all hate herbert flint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:21:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,196</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/insearchofamonstergirlfriend/pseuds/insearchofamonstergirlfriend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>marek keeps challenging leo; he should probably stop.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter &amp; Leo Hurst, Leo Hurst &amp; Marek Swiftknife, Marek Swiftknife/Marcus Flint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tales from the lower alleys [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Rigel Black Chronicles Appreciation</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. another challenge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>literally no one asked for this, not even me, but it popped into my brain, I got a bit drunk, and here we are.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was an excellent day to challenge Lionel Hurst. Well, no, that wasn’t true, but Marek still was going to do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t actually think he’d be a better rogue than Leo, but at least when he challenged him, he could guarantee Leo was completely focused on him, if just for a few minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he had a crush on his king, and yeah, it was totally pathetic. A better way to handle his unrequited crush was out there, but he was several years into it now and couldn’t reasonably just stop challenging him. He liked to think that despite all of Leo’s grumblings, he would miss the challenges if he stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marek raised his ale to his lips and let his eyes drift over to where his king sat with Harry. Watching him flirt, a pang shot through his chest, and he shut his eyes and drained the ale. He still couldn’t decide if the fact that Harry was so damn likeable made it worse or not. Regardless, he couldn’t blame Leo for liking her, so he just stewed with his emotions and pushed them down so no one would know. Mopey Marek indeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set the pint down and pushed away from the bar. As Solom grabbed his glass, the older man let out a sigh. “Again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s been a couple months,” Marek replied. “Got to keep him ready for other challengers.” He strode towards the table the two of them sat at as Solom shook his head behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry was first to look up at him and offered a friendly smile. When Leo turned to see who his companion was looking at, he let out an obviously exasperated sigh. “You’re not just here to say hi, are you?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His heart squeezed, but he pushed that down and grinned. “Nope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Leo said. “This evening then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prepare for your defeat,” Marek said. It must have been what, the twentieth challenge he’d issued? No, he knew it was exactly number twenty, just like he could count each scar on his body that had resulted from these duels, and just like he could pinpoint exactly where there would be a scar in his shoulder had Harry not healed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he was a total mess, but as long as Leo didn’t realize, it was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo turned towards Harry again, his beautiful hazel eyes alight, “well, you heard the man. Want to make the last hours of my life memorable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though clearly in jest, Marek knew his king well enough to know there was a genuine proposition there, and he walked away and out of the Phoenix before Harry could respond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That evening, Marek and Leo stretched across from each other in the courtyard, getting limber and otherwise preparing for the duel. Marek knew it’d end with him hurt, as all of the bouts did, but he’d decided that was worth it years ago. What did that say about him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t addicted to the pain, but it had become a sort of comfort for him. And so every time the anguish inside him bubbled up too much, he challenged Leo again. It equalled out to every few months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhaling slowly as Marek stretched an arm across his body, he studied Leo. His Crooked Majesty. He was both not handsome and too handsome for Marek’s comfort. He watched Leo laugh at something Harry said and then stretch over his legs. He had such an ease with her despite his crush. That was just another part of what made Leo so great, why Marek had fallen for him in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marek stretched his other arm across his body and looked up and over at the clock. “Alright, let’s get this started,” he called across the yard and let his arms swing down and slightly behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In such a hurry to lose?” Leo clambered up to his feet and pulled his knife out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I have some new tricks up my sleeve,” he retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no, he didn’t, and when the fight was over, Marek was lying in the dust clutching a likely broken nose, and Leo was walking back to his little lady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d barely gotten five minutes, and to make things worse, it’d been obvious that Leo wasn’t paying total attention to him. He didn’t need to, so of course he’d been watching Harry out of the corner of his eye. And Marek, fool that he was, was more distracted watching him watching her. And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to pay total attention to the fight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time Harry didn’t offer to heal him. Fair enough. Whether romantically or not, it was clear she felt strongly about Leo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyways, the walk to the clinic was just far enough to let him sink into the pain like he wanted to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eleni Hurst was at the door when he came up to it, as she had started doing every time they dueled. “You know I hate to see you in here,” she scolded him gently but led him to one of the patient rooms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marek avoided her eyes. Mrs. Hurst was too observant for her own good. He didn’t know when she’d caught on, and she didn’t say anything about it but it had become painfully obvious that she knew just how he felt about her son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Hurst healed him with practiced motions of her wand and then fixed him with a look. This time he didn’t let himself look away. “You better not show up again here this month, Marek Swift.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I will make no such promises, Mrs. Hurst,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least be more careful. Stop getting into foolish fights.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah. He should stop with that. Not just this month, but for all the future. Still, he shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed, as if she was reluctant to say it, but said, “Leo doesn’t like to see you hurt any more than the rest of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marek’s jaw clenched. It was as close as she’d gotten to saying something about his ill advised crush. “You know he’s the one who landed me in your clinic today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you gave him no choice,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “If you really care about him, stop this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marek exhaled and looked away from her again. That wasn’t an angle he had considered. The challenges were selfish, not because he was making Leo defend his crown again and again, but because Leo </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared</span>
  </em>
  <span> about him, considered him his friend, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>family.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization hit him like a full power stunning charm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leo wasn’t ever going to love him like that. Even if him and Harry didn’t work out, if Leo hadn’t once considered him in that way over the past four years… It was unfair to both of them for him not to not try and move on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “I’ll do my best, Mrs. Hurst.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Good,” she smiled at him and then patted him on the back before sending him on his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an excellent night to start getting over Lionel Hurst.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. a different challenge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wasn’t really planning on writing more but it kind of got under my skin (in a good way) and here we are I guess. Thank you so much to everyone who read <em>another challenge</em> &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Unfortunately getting over someone was easier said than done. Avoiding Leo entirely until he was over him was out of the question, even if he weren’t the man’s second. As he was, and this was all so they could have a good healthy and platonic relationship, Marek decided to devote himself entirely to patrolling the streets and investigating Scar and his people. </p><p>While on its face it might seem like one of his better coping mechanisms, especially when compared to challenging his long standing crush to a duel every few months just to hold his sole attention for less than ten minutes, at least that specific one hadn’t left him chronically sleep-deprived.</p><p>This was all to say Marek was in a less than optimal state at two in the afternoon when he walked by Maywell Clinic and saw the man who clearly did not belong. Fortunately, even in his exhausted state, he had the wherewithal to stay back in the shadows and study him.</p><p>He was tall and very muscular with dark hair, but what made him catch Marek’s eye was how very pureblooded he was, though given his well-worn robes, he had attempted to hide that. His shoes, of course, were shiny. They always forgot about the shoes. Even if it weren’t for them however, he would have known from the way the man held himself. He wasn’t handsome per se, but he had an enthralling quality about him. </p><p><em> Well, well, </em> Marek thought. A pureblooded stranger in the alleys was definitely not something to just dismiss. What with the growing tensions in the alleys, really he was <em> obligated </em> to pay attention to him. He still hadn’t found the lad who had served in the dueling pavilion. And though he doubted this man was he on account of his inability to blend in, the odds of him being somehow connected to Scar were too high.</p><p>One of the newer hires, one Marek hadn’t spoken to before, came out and spoke with him briefly. Interesting. A pureblood, possibly a lordling, who was familiar with one of the workers at Maywell. </p><p>The woman went back inside and Marek watched the man walk away before he came out from the shadows. After a brief stop at his own place for a Pepper-Up Potion and water, he carried on to the Dancing Phoenix. He really didn’t need his friends, and especially Leo, aware of just how bad this had gotten.</p><p> </p><p>Marek didn’t see the man again until October, though he looked for him whenever he walked through the alleys. It happened near Pendragon Alley, where the tournament had been held. The man was walking down the street away from him, and Marek wasn’t sure at first if it was him. This time, he was completely rested, so he followed carefully.</p><p>Apparently not carefully enough. Okay so maybe he wasn’t totally well-rested. But really he’d gotten a decent amount of sleep the night before. Four hours at least. He was at least trying to get more sleep. If something happened to Leo because he was a sleep-deprived idiot, he’d never forgive himself. (On the other side, if something happened to Leo because he was <em> asleep </em>, he’d also never forgive himself.)</p><p>“Who are you and what do you want? Did my father send you to follow me?” The man turned on him and took menacing steps forward.</p><p>“I<strong><em>—</em></strong>What? No.” Marek shook his head and narrowed his eyes at the pureblood. “Who is your father?”</p><p>He grasped Marek’s tunic in one hand and pressed him up against a wall. “Stop following me and stop asking questions.” Marek could feel his wand pressing threateningly against his ribs. Well, it wasn’t the first time. A pureblood lordling couldn’t scare him.</p><p>Instead, he laughed and met his eyes. “Don’t you know you’re in the lower alleys? You should expect a few questions.” He pressed his ribs up and into his wand. Now that he could look him directly in the face, he figured the man was just a bit younger than him. Out of school, but not by too much. </p><p>The man stared at him several long moments before shoving away from Marek, his expression dark. “Just leave me alone.”</p><p>“No can do.” Marek replied and pushed off the wall to remain within arm’s reach of him. “These are our alleys. Why are you here?”</p><p>“Maybe I’m searching for a place to live,” the pureblood replied.</p><p>Marek didn’t believe it for a second. “How do you know that woman at Maywell?”</p><p>The man’s eyes narrowed and he raised his wand higher. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“Sure you don’t,” Marek said. He wasn’t sure whether continuing to press him was the right move or not, and unfortunately he wasn’t exactly in tiptop mental form (if he ever was). If only the man hadn’t noticed him, this all could have been simple. He probably should try harder to get more sleep, but he didn’t know how to nor want to stop the patrolling and the investigating. The lack of progress was driving him up a wall.</p><p>He hadn’t been, and still wasn’t don’t be silly, scared of this man, but perhaps it would be a good idea if he also had his wand in hand, just in case this turned into a duel. Skilled as he was, even he had his doubts about his ability to win a duel unarmed.</p><p>“Is Maywell the name of that clinic?” The man asked. “I suppose I was there a few months ago. Just asking after a friend who lives here and I’d heard visited the clinic sometimes.”</p><p>“Oh?” Marek raised an eyebrow. “What’s their name? Perhaps I know them.”</p><p>The man was silent a moment, appearing to think before he responded. “Archie.”</p><p>Ah. Marek hadn’t been there when Harry’s cousin was at the Dancing Phoenix, but he’d heard about him. It <em> did </em> make sense that they would be familiar, what with both being pureblood lords. Still, there was something suspicious about the man. If it were something as innocuous as that, then why hadn’t he said so initially? Still, Marek said, “okay,” and took a step back. </p><p>The man nodded. “May I go without you stalking me now?”</p><p>“Sure.” Marek smiled.</p><p>The man spun on his heel and walked in the opposite direction from where he’d been walking originally. Marek stayed in place until he was out of sight and then turned and walked down the street the same way the man had originally been headed.</p><p>Whatever reason he’d been down here, he refused to believe it was about lodging nor could it be Harry’s cousin this time on account of schools being in session.</p><p>If he’d had business down this street though, Marek couldn’t figure it out. Of course it wouldn’t be so obvious, and fine he’d admit it, he was exhausted. There was only so much a rare extra hour of sleep and yet another Pepper-Up Potion could do.</p><p>And yet, Marek still forced himself to stay out several hours past midnight trying to find any new leads or answers.</p><p>He didn’t.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. challenge accepted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>October slipped into November and Marek couldn’t get the interaction out of his head. A pureblood who didn’t get on with his father, who was familiar with one of the workers at Maywell and Harry’s lordling cousin.</p><p>All things considered, it was suspicious, and Marek needed to get to the bottom of it, or at the very least just investigate it.</p><p>So he fixated on the pureblood.</p><p>Perhaps it was the fact that he was making absolutely no progress with finding Scar or that serving boy. Perhaps it was something else. Merlin knew he couldn’t go down that road. There was enough to busy himself with and worry about without considering whatever that something else might be. (It still lingered in the back of his mind and refused to go away).</p><p>Whatever it was, the pureblood was all he had to go off of. He didn’t go so far as to grill everyone at Maywell, but it was a near thing with only the thought of Mrs. Hurst’s disapproval and the small blooms of concern regarding what the pureblood had said holding him back. He may have been considered a criminal, but let it not be said that he had no morals. If the pureblood had nothing to do with Scar, then his feelings about his father, the way he had pretended he didn’t know the woman at Maywell… Well, Marek could easily imagine several different reasons for it, none of them good.</p><p> </p><p>Marek fought against his eyelids’ repeated downward movements, but even the Pepper-Up Potion he’d taken immediately before the meeting couldn’t help. It wasn’t even exactly his fault this time. Sure, he patrolled as much as he could, but he <em> was </em> also actively trying to fix his sleep habits, at least more so than previously. Unfortunately, all the stress about still having absolutely no new leads or anything else to show for his efforts left him unable to fall asleep most nights.</p><p>“Marek.”</p><p>His eyes shot open again. Circe. He couldn’t say for sure that was the first time Leo had said his name. This was really bad. “Yes, Your Majesty?” He shot him a cheeky grin.</p><p>Whether Leo’s frown was about the ridiculous formality or that he was half asleep at their regular table in the Dancing Phoenix… well, it was probably the latter but Marek was going to do all he could to avoid <em> that </em> discussion for as long as he could.</p><p>“Anything else to add?” Leo crooked an eyebrow at him.</p><p>He considered mentioning the pureblood for only a moment before he shook his head and sighed. “No. No leads yet.” Months and he had nothing real to show for his efforts. What a great job he was doing. How had he ever thought he might be able to be the Rogue? He hadn’t. The challenges had only ever been about getting Leo’s attention.</p><p>If there were at least one good thing to be said for the situation; however, it was the fact that being around Leo was easier now. No longer did his chest tighten when his king laughed, no longer did he force himself to look away lest Leo noticed his decidedly not platonic staring, no longer did he <em>stare</em>. Despite how sleep-deprived he still was, he couldn’t help but feel lighter.</p><p>Of course that brought up problems of its own. How could he be allowed to feel that way when Scar and Claw were still out there?</p><p> </p><p>It was an accident when he ran into the pureblood the third time. Marek hadn’t even been patrolling that chilly Thursday evening. But there Marek was walking down Wormwood Row and there the pureblood was walking towards him.</p><p>Marek noticed him first, and as such was aware of the exact moment the lordling spotted him back, a grimace spreading across his angular face. The man didn’t run however, but continued walking until they stood in front of each other.</p><p>Considering their last and only real interaction, Marek was shocked the pureblood didn’t continue on past him, or just turn around entirely.</p><p>“You again,” the pureblood said, his voice clearly resigned to it.</p><p>Marek smiled, baring his teeth. “You’re back in the alleys.”</p><p>The pureblood nodded. Simple and without an offering of further information. Of course.</p><p>“Why?” Marek asked the question without any real expectation of an answer.</p><p>The pureblood moved to stand and walk beside him. “How about you tell me about the alleys,” he responded, “and perhaps I will let you know.”</p><p>It was better than nothing, Marek supposed. “Alright.” Turning his head, he looked the other man in the eyes. “Anything specific you want to know?”</p><p>His eyes were dark green; Marek hadn’t noticed that before. They were—No, that thought would really not do.</p><p>He really needed more sleep. He absolutely could <em> not </em> start thinking about this. He didn’t even know the man’s name, didn’t know if he was one of Claw’s men! He didn’t think he was, but it would be what he deserved, wouldn’t it? The first man he fixated on after Leo being on the wrong side.</p><p>Maybe that was what this was. Just another terrible coping mechanism for Marek Swiftknife. Another way to punish himself.</p><p>He stumbled as the realization washed over him. Oh for Kyprioth’s sake.</p><p>Marek had a problem, he knew that (many of them in fact), but there was no amending it.</p><p>Who would he be if he weren’t making terrible decisions?</p><p>It was a terrible reason to continue on the way he was, but Marek just couldn’t find it within himself to stop or change.</p><p>A firm hand steadied him, and Marek stiffened. It was… unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. He internally groaned. Yes, this man was certainly turning out to be a different sort of problem that he’d initially expected because <em> of course</em>.</p><p>He wouldn’t say he was into the pureblood per se—again, he didn’t know the man—but the fact that he was so enthralled by him probably said <em> something </em> even beyond the terrible coping mechanism thing.</p><p>They really needed to get back to the subject at hand: the question he’d asked of the pureblood which still had not been answered. Mayhap it’d only result in a tour of the alleys—he had no guarantee that the man would give him answers—but he still needed a response for it to commence.</p><p>“Why do you say these are <em> your </em> alleys?”</p><p>A question at last, but an annoying one. A pureblood lordling was not the sort of person he could just talk to about the Court of the Rogue without a consideration for the consequences, even if he did have nothing to do with Scar or Claw.</p><p>“Just that I’m from here,” Marek said finally. “And you, so clearly, are not.”</p><p>The pureblood’s face twisted into a scowl like it was used to it, and perhaps it was. It was silent between them but for the sound of their boots against the cobblestones before the lordling spoke again, “how can I blend in better?”</p><p>That was probably a point in favor of the man not being on Scar’s side, but Marek kept his guard up. </p><p>“Your shoes for one,” he said and gestured down to both of theirs. “See how shiny yours are? It’s an easy tipoff to folk in the alley that you don’t belong here but also one you can easily fix.”</p><p>The pureblood nodded, appearing to genuinely care about Marek’s answer. It wasn’t quite what he expected, though considering how little he actually knew about the man, he didn’t know what he <em> had </em> been expecting.</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“Well, you could try and dirty them, wear them in, that sort of thing by hand real quick.” Or perhaps there was a spell, but Marek didn’t think much of this option whether done manually or magically. “Alternatively,” and as he spoke, he grinned, “we find you some used shoes.” He liked the thought of the lordling in someone else’s shoes, but it was also the more authentic option.</p><p>They may generally not have much in the alleys, but what they did have they shared. At the Dancing Phoenix, there was even a room containing countless costumes, clothes, other textiles and resources.</p><p>“Alright,” the pureblood said, surprising Marek once again.</p><p>“Which one?” He raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“I assume you recommend the used shoes?”</p><p>“Yes.” Marek smirked.</p><p>“Then that one.” He looked at his shoes again. “Where can I get a pair?”</p><p>This version of the lordling was so different from the man who’d pushed him against the wall and threatened him with his wand, and Marek couldn’t fathom he was involved with Claw or Scar. That didn’t mean he could just take him to the Dancing Phoenix though, especially considering those resources were really for members of the Court of the Rogue, not pureblood lordlings looking for fun or whatever in the alleys.</p><p>He eyed their feet next to each other a moment before making his decision. “Alright, this way.”</p><p>Their footsteps echoed through the alleys, and neither of them spoke until after they passed the Dancing Phoenix; though the other man likely didn’t know its significance.</p><p>“Are the alleys safe?” He was quieter and more serious now. A cold unease settled over Marek as he recalled what he’d suspected about the woman at Maywell.</p><p>“We take care of our own,” he replied simply.</p><p>He could feel the man tense up, and Marek sighed. “It’s complicated.” He looked around them and then at the pureblood. Should he…? He hadn’t even mentioned him to Leo. The woman at Maywell though… This man’s father…</p><p>“I know I may not look like it, but I can keep up,” the pureblood replied.</p><p>Marek hadn’t thought that for a moment, but there was no point or reason to say that.</p><p>“How about a deal?” Marek finally landed on.</p><p>“What sort of deal?” The pureblood turned dark green eyes full of wariness on him as Marek halted in front of the building that housed his flat.</p><p>“You answer a few questions of mine, then I’ll explain better.”</p><p>A flash of something. Anger? Fear? A mix of the two?</p><p>The pureblood gritted his teeth and looked away and around them. “A few questions. If they’re acceptable.”</p><p>Marek rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to give you veritaserum. Yes, you can choose whether you answer the questions or not. Obviously.”</p><p>“Fine then.” He gestured at the building in front of them. “This is where I can get used shoes?”</p><p>Despite some misgivings about the decision, Marek nodded and led the pureblood inside. His flat was on the third floor.</p><p>It was small, as he liked, and he frowned at the several empty potions bottles clearly visible from the door. Yes, he was sure the pureblood suspecting he had an addiction would help the man trust him enough to answer his questions.</p><p>Moving in front of the man to try and block his view, he gestured to a chair. “One second.”</p><p>They seemed to have similar size feet, and Marek had a few pairs of shoes he’d been intending to bring to the court but hadn’t yet. He whisked the potions bottles into his bedroom with a quick spell before summoning two pairs of well worn shoes from the tiny closet.</p><p>He grabbed and tossed them to the man easily and then sank down in the chair across from him. </p><p>“So,” he looked the man up and down and frowned. An expected motion of his eyes? Probably, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea. It was an unfortunate fact that the pureblood lordling was to Marek’s taste (that same sort of not handsome and yet too handsome that Leo was), but that didn’t mean he had to entertain the idea or do anything about it, no matter the hints some of his friends had been dropping recently about finding a lover. “What’s your name?”</p><p>The man had slipped one of his shiny shoes off and was studying the faded brown leather of the boot in his hand. At the question, his lip twitched and he let the hand holding the shoe fall slightly while he looked at Marek, scrutinizing him with the same level of disdain he had the shoe.</p><p>“Or,” Marek said in response to the obvious reluctance, “just give me <em> something </em> to call you.” He couldn’t keep on calling the man the pureblood or the lordling in his head. On more than one occasion, he’d referred to him as <em> his </em> pureblood, and Mithros knew that wouldn’t do.</p><p>“Adrian,” he said at last. “What about you?”</p><p>If the pureblood—Adrian had given him a fake name, should he respond in kind? But what reason would he have for that? Claw and Scar already knew who he was, where he was. The attacks shortly before the Dancing Dragon burned down had made that quite clear. All they could do, and had been doing, was stay vigilant. “I’m Marek.” He nodded to the shoe in Adrian’s hand, and wasn’t that weird to have a name to call him after several months of not? “You going to put that on, or is it not good enough for Your Lordship?”</p><p>Adrian’s eyes immediately hardened. “Don’t call me that.”</p><p>Marek lifted his hands to show he meant no harm and kept his tone soft as he replied, “okay.”</p><p>Silence echoed between the two men while they stared at each other.</p><p>Finally, Adrian broke it. “Do you have another question or are you going to explain the alleys?” As he spoke, he leaned down and slipped his foot into the shoe.</p><p>Adrian’s reaction had only made his terrible suspicions more probable, and he really didn’t need all the details, so he leaned back in his seat and nodded. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” Adrian said once Marek was done, “how safe would you say someone without magic is in the alleys right now?”</p><p>Another piece to the puzzle that made all too much horrible sense.</p><p>“It depends.” His stomach was slightly queasy. He loved the alleys and thought they were a wonderful place full of wonderful people, but everything that had happened since Claw had first appeared three years ago was poisoning the community. “How involved are they?”</p><p>Adrian inhaled and then exhaled loudly, not removing his eyes from Marek’s for a second. “I don’t know. On the outskirts?” He sighed and stretched out his hands. “I should stop with the evasions. We both know who I’m talking about.”</p><p>“Yes.” The woman at Maywell. He was grateful he’d been cognizant enough of the possible situation to decide against talking to her.</p><p>“So?” Adrian seemed shaky. “How safe is she here?”</p><p>“She lives close to Maywell?” He asked, thinking back to running into Adrian near Pendragon Alley.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“She should be fine,” Marek said. He couldn’t lie to Adrian, but despite Claw and Scar’s distasteful actions and contempt for the laws of the court of the rogue, it didn’t seem they’d stoop so low as to attack the clinic. “It would probably be a good idea to stick just to the streets right around Maywell though. Does she have a floo?”</p><p>Adrian nodded. He still seemed ill at ease though.</p><p>“Maybe you should suggest she travel that way if you’re so worried.” He stalled a moment, then said, “can I ask—”</p><p>Adrian stood up and gestured to his feet. “How are these shoes?” He must have seen something in his eyes, or just otherwise was done answering questions about the woman.</p><p>Reluctantly, Marek swept his eyes over his figure, shoes to head, head to shoes. “They’re good. This will help a lot.”</p><p>“But there’s other things that make me stand out, aren’t there?” Adrian asked.</p><p>“Yes, but they’re not as easy to fix,” he said.</p><p>“What are they?”</p><p>Marek could really do with another dose of Pepper-Up. Between the lack of sleep he’d gotten the past week and this whole situation with Adrian—not that he was upset about helping out—he was exhausted. Instead, he raked a hand through his hair and looked the man up and down yet again, eyes lingering on his shoulders. “Everything about the way you carry yourself. You can’t just change one thing. It’s the whole package.”</p><p>“I can do that.” Adrian took barely any time to consider it. “Will you help?”</p><p>“Me?” Marek said, furrowing his brows. “You really want me to teach you how to be less… pureblood lordling?”</p><p>Adrian stiffened at the last two words but nodded. “If I’m going to be in the alleys, I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”</p><p>“How often are you going to be in the alleys?</p><p>“Even if I’m not here every day, just one time could ruin everything. If this is something I can do to lessen the likelihood that he… That I’m not...” Adrian exhaled and took a step closer to him. “This is important.”</p><p>“Okay,” Marek dropped his arms to his sides and nodded. “I can do that. When do we start?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Didn't take 5 months this time! Thank you SO much for reading. I don't really know what this fic is anymore, but I guess I kind of have a plot now, or at least a direction I'm going in.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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